Last Huzzah, The
by yellowhorde
Summary: Quatre is running late at the theater and the show will be starting soon! Random insanity on this, their last day of production.


Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing and I make no money from this or any other story I write.  
  
Pairings: Just the barest hint of Treize/Zechs  
  
Category: General AU Crossover of sorts with brief appearances from Harry Potter, Sailor Moon, and Lord of the Rings  
  
Warnings: Minor self-insertion. You have been warned! :3  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Title: The Last Huzzah  
  
Author: yellowhorde  
  
Status: Finished  
  
Feel free to send comments/constructive criticism to me at yellowhorde@hotmail.com  
  
Notes: This is for the Infinity Base December 2002 contest and in the hopes of keeping the place alive!  
  
THE LAST HUZZAH  
  
Quatre slammed shut the heavy entrance doors and leaned against them, panting for breath. His pale cheeks were rosy from the cold and his blond hair was in wild disarray and spotted here and there with a spattering of fat fluffy snowflakes, which clung on in stubborn desperation. With every passing second their crisp crystalline structure softened until they finally melted into oblivion.  
  
Cheerfully the blond youth removed his winter coat and hung it carefully on one of the last remaining pegs on the wall. The floor was a jumble of snowy boots and soggy shoes which made it next to impossible to walk without stepping or tripping on something.  
  
"Looks like everyone is here!" Quatre beamed as he picked his way carefully through the mess. "Even though this may Infinity Base's last huzzah, it's nice to see so many people showing up! At least we'll go out with a bang!"  
  
Eagerly, he made his way down the corridor to the general area, making his way past rows and rows of closed doors, each one bearing the name of the writer who resided within. Absently he noticed that more than a few doors were sporting a fine layer of dust.  
  
As he gazed upon names as familiar as his own, Quatre realized that he had not heard from several of their talented authors in a quite a while. This did not disturb the young man overly much for he understood that people came and went like the tide, bringing their thoughts, ideals, and life experiences with them. Some hardy souls decided to stay awhile while others moved on to new and different things. That was the way of the world, and while he would miss them, he knew that there would always be someone new to take up the slack.  
  
Or at least, he hoped so.  
  
Purposeful steps faltered then slowed as the youth approached the one door that captured his imagination more than any other in the entire building. It was a door like any other door, but this one was special. For starters, it was the only room in the entire building that was locked. This one had a small brass sign with the words 'Forbidden' engraved in small neat letters.  
  
Every day Quatre wandered past this door and every day he wondered about it's contents. It was the one door he was unable to open and the very thought of not knowing what was inside was slowly driving him mad.  
  
(Kind of like Bluebeard's wife.) He mused faintly.  
  
"Curiosity may have killed the cat," Quatre muttered under his breath as he stared longingly at the forbidden door, "but it was the HOPE of satisfaction that brought him back!"  
  
Casting a guilty glance over his shoulders, the blond youth carefully reached out his hand and grasped the brash doorknob. The metal was smooth and cool in his grip and made no sound or gave any signs of resistance as he turned the knob.  
  
"THERE you are, Quatre! I've been looking all over for you!"  
  
Leaping around a startled Arabian clutched his chest with one trembling hand as if to keep his frantically beating heart where it belonged. He came face to face with his co-actor, Wufei Chang, whose beetle-black eyes glittered in warm amusement as he stared calmly at his friend. His thick, shoulder-length hair hung freely about his face and he was clad in his customary navy tank top and white silk pants.  
  
"Don't DO that to me, Wufei!" Quatre gasped.  
  
Elegant eyebrows rows as if in question. "Do? What did I do to you?"  
  
"You snuck up on me, that's what!"  
  
"I beg to differ, but I never SNEAK." The Oriental intoned as if vaguely insulted pulling himself up to his fully height. He sighed and waved his hands in a dismissing gesture. "Anyway, you know the production will be starting in less than thirty minutes. We were beginning to think you weren't going to show."  
  
"Yes, but where the devil did you come from?"  
  
Wufei calmly took note of the other boy's flushed face and slightly disheveled appearance. His curiosity was peaked, but common courtesy dictated that he not ask any potentially embarrassing questions. He would find out - eventually.  
  
"You have your little secrets and I have mine!" He grinned.  
  
"It's fashionable to be late to a show, you know." Quatre quipped as he and his friend made their way down the empty corridor, which took them deeper into the heart of the building.  
  
"Not if you are the performer!" Wufei muttered as he pushed open the familiar door that led to the backstage.  
  
If the corridor had been silent, than the room the two just entered was a complete contrast. The roar of dozens of people laughing, talking, arguing, and practicing lines filled the relatively small room. The scents of perfume, powder, pine needles, and warm bodies collided and became something entirely different and the very air was alive with electricity.  
  
Tensions were high, very high.  
  
"Excuse me, excuse me, please!"  
  
A young girl with long brown and very bushy hair pushed her way past Quatre. She was clad in somber black robes and she had a slender wand in her hand, which she preceded to wave at the nearest pile of streamers. Away they went, into the air, and magically began to arrange themselves into intricate loops and bows as they wound their way around pillars and across the stage.  
  
Two harried looking boys followed in similar robes and wands. The first boy wore spectacles and had dark messy hair and a lightning shaped scar on his forehead while his companion had flaming red hair, a snub nose, and a mass of freckles.  
  
The dark haired youth called out to the girl, "Wait up, Hermione!"  
  
"Harry, you and Ron will just have to keep up! The show will start in twenty minutes and these streamers should have been hung AGES ago!"  
  
Before long, a dazzling array of colorful streamers were flying through the air as the three young wizards frantically set about putting up the last few remaining decorations. Quatre stood transfixed until a long rope of silver tinsel nearly strangled him. Wufei dragged him out of harms way muttering, "Wizards!" in less than complimentary tones.  
  
Farther in the room swarmed a teeming mass of females, maybe twenty all told, who were crowding a rather handsome young elf with long, luxurious blond hair. He noted that more than a few of the girls wore sailor tops and short blue pleated skirts. The leader of the screaming horde was a tall, leggy blond with her hair done up in matching pigtails. He recognized her as Sailor Moon, leader of the Sailor Scouts. He had never actually spoken to her but he had heard that she was rather nice, if not a little ditzy.  
  
By mutual consent, the two boys steered well clear of the mob as both had had similar, and equally traumatizing, experiences with just such groups of young women in the past. It was the drool-slicked chins and starry eye that gave them away. They were fan girls, the bane of the anime world.  
  
Shuddering, Quatre turned away, ignoring the pleading, slightly desperate, look the young elf shot him as he found himself trapped against the wall with nowhere to run.  
  
"Poor Legolas will have to manage on his own!" Wufei sighed as he pulled his friend along. "He's not in the show tonight, but you are so, please, let's hurry!"  
  
"Such is the price of fame!" Quatre lamented as he caught one last glimpse of the poor elf as the crazy girls overpowered him.  
  
"Sad, isn't it? Now let's get going before they catch wind of us! Their sense of smell is incredibly acute when it comes to sniffing out bishonen! And I for one want to keep my clothes and body intact!"  
  
"Agreed!"  
  
Some time later Wufei was carefully tying Quatre's cravat as the blond gazed at his form in the mirror. All those nights, and mornings, spent in Treize's company when proving very useful. With one more tiny adjustment he pronounced his friend ready to appear on stage.  
  
Suddenly a shrill maniacal laugh ripped through the air and a young woman with brown hair and eyes went bouncing across the room, smiling and chirping cheerfully to herself. As Quatre and Wufei stared after her, she pushed the glasses up the bridge of her nose and producing a clean rag from out of her pocket, began to dust furiously. Billowing clouds of white filled the air. Both pilots covered their mouths but were unable to stave off fits of coughing as the breathed the substance into their lungs. When the air had cleared, the crazy woman was gone.  
  
"Well, she certainly seemed in a good mood." Quatre noted with a growing sense of unease.  
  
"Yeah, she is. Rumor has it that she has a new story idea." Wufei cast a nervous glance over his shoulder to make sure the coast was clear. "I hear you'll be the star."  
  
Quatre swallowed noisily. "Really?" he squeaked, but then he narrowed his eyes. "She's not going to kill me off again, is she?"  
  
"No, you'll live through this one.I think."  
  
"I guess I'll be seeing a lot of you then these next few weeks."  
  
"Actually, she has you paired up with Trowa this time."  
  
Quatre almost dropped his jaw. "You're kidding! Yellowhorde NEVER pairs me with him. I didn't think she liked Trowa!"  
  
"She doesn't. But the story idea calls for two musicians."  
  
"Is it a comedy?" Quatre asked hopefully as he fiddled nervously with his cravat until Wufei shooed his hands down. He would be acting as narrator this evening, which was a big responsibility and one that he usually took very seriously but every night, no matter how often he did this, he was nervous. Some things just never changed.  
  
"No. It's not a comedy."  
  
"Angst?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Oh, come on, Wufei, you're her favorite! Surely, she told you what it was about!"  
  
"She hasn't told me anything." Wufei snapped.  
  
"Liar!"  
  
Before Wufei could reply, the sounds of the orchestra tuning up were heard and he hastily steered Quatre towards the front of the stage without saying another word. Then he disappeared behind the drapes giving his friend an enthusiastic thumb's up.  
  
The show was about to start! Everyone who wasn't in the first act had already fled down the halls leaving only Treize and Zechs and Quatre on stage. The two Oz solders were going to be performing one of the many fantastic works of trowacko while Quatre announced each group as their turn came. You may say that he had the best seat in the house.  
  
"Now what's my motivation?" Zechs muttered nervously as the curtain began to slowly rise.  
  
Grinning, Treize stepped closer, took the long blond bishonen into his arms, and delivered a very sound, very passionate kiss.  
  
"Ah, there it is!" Zechs gasped once he was able to catch his breath.  
  
Finally, the curtain was fully drawn and the roar of the crowd crashed against the stage. Surely there could be no finer feeling in the entire world than to hear acceptance in the voices of one's fellow men! For these brief moments of time nothing else mattered. All fears and inadequacies were put aside and it didn't matter if their hard won glory would burn forever or fizzle never to be revived. All that mattered was that they were entertainers, each and every one of them, characters, artists, and authors alike. They lived to pleasure the crowd, to make them laugh, to make them cry, to make them think. Their job was to entertain and BE entertained.  
  
And it is just as simple as that.  
  
THE END 


End file.
